Hidden Agenda
by watermelonxpeaches18
Summary: Alex might not know just as much about Tom as he thinks he does.
1. Chapter 1

**Hidden Agenda**

**What were Tom's motives in becoming Alex's best friend? Was he just grateful for the help after being **

**beat up? Or was Alex's unknown life catching up with him before he knew it existed?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider… yet. *evil smile***

****After this prologue chapter, this story takes place after Snakehead****

**~~~No flaming please! This is my first fanfic, so be nice!!... :]~~~**

**Oh, yeah, and Tom's a little OOC at the end of this chappie, sorry.**

*************************************************************************************

***Tom's POV***

**2 Years Ago**

Tom knew it was happening again. He turned the corner and found himself face to face with

Jack Hamilton, along with his gang of thugs.

"Give us yer lunch money, punk." He growled. His face was so close that Tom could smell the

beer on his breath.

"I'd rather not." Tom replied bravely. He was short for his age and not the sort of person you

would think could get away with standing up to Jack and his gang. Some of them looked like solid hunks

of muscle.

"Then we'll take it from you" said Jack stupidly. He was definitely drunk. Two of the most

heavily muscled thugs lurched forward. Tom winced and braced himself for the blow. He tried to roll

with it when it came. It didn't help much. He cursed to himself as the smug face of Jack Hamilton

disappeared from his view. Tom could hear Jack laugh as the gang walked away. Tom was still

lying there when Alex spotted him while cycling home. He slowed his bike and paused next to him.

"Do you need any help?" Alex asked.

"No, I'b okay." Said Tom wearily. " I think by dose is broken dough."

"Was it Hamilton?" inquired Alex.

"Yep." Tom acknowledged. He saw Alex's face twist in disgust.

"He take anything?"

"Just by lunch money." Alex's face was concerned.

"Here," He handed Tom a ten pound note. "Will that be enough?"

"Sure." Tom grinned. "Thanks… what did you say your name was?"

"Alex. Alex Rider." He replied. He saw the grin fade from Tom's face as his name registered in his

mind. That confused him a little but he shrugged it off. "And you're Tom. I remember you from P.E.

Anyways, do you know where Hamilton went?"

"He went that way." Tom pointed in the general direction of some apartment buildings in the

distance. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason, "said Alex vaguely. "See you around." He said, and got back on his bike.

"Yeah. See ya."

Tom watched Alex cycle off in to the distance in dismay, then was tempted to smack himself on the

head. _This is __**good**__,_he told to himself sternly, _If you become false friends with this guy, like Dad wanted _

_you to, then maybe he'll actually __**like**__ you for a bit._ Tom shook his head. Why did it have to be this

person, the only one that had been _nice _to him. He gritted his teeth. If this was what it took to make his

father proud, he would do it. He would do whatever it took for Winston Yu, his father.

**********************************************************************************

**Alex's POV**

Alex got off his bike. He wheeled it the rest of the way to his school in Chelsea, and parked it

in the bike rack. Just to be safe, he looped his lock around it and clicked it shut. It had been about two

years since he had deposed Jack Hamilton, who still walked with a barely noticeable limp, but you could

never be too careful. He shouldered his backpack and joined the throng of students entering the school

for a last week of classes. As he walked up the steps, he saw Tom waving for him to come to him. Alex

grinned and began to make his way over to him. Seeing Tom always cheered him up. If there was

anyone who was less connected to Alex's other life with MI6, it was the always upbeat Tom. (A.N. I just

had to add this. Oh, the irony!)

As Alex struggled through the entire student body to get to the patch of grass where his friend

stood, Tom was sweating, thinking of the object in his backpack, and what he had to do with it, because

whatever he told his father, he had truly become friends with Alex, and was terrified of the act he was

about to perform. He shot Alex another smile, and although the strain was evident to him, Alex did not

seem to notice his anxiety, though Tom was praying otherwise. _Knock me out Alex, _he thought,_ Or just_

_do something to stop me. Give me a reason to tell my father I have failed. Maybe then he won't beat me _

_up like last time. _ But Alex continued grinning, Tom continued worrying and the gun in his backpack

continued radiating death. After what seemed like a century, Alex finally reached Tom. He was panting

slightly.

"So, Tom what do you want?" he asked.

"Follow me. "said Tom. He turned and walked to a trailer in the parking lot. Alex followed,

perplexed but for now, playing along.

"Where are we going?" he asked. Tom pointed to the trailer. His throat felt almost too dry to speak.

"Why?" Alex pressed. Tom cleared his throat.

"I need to show you something." he said quietly. They stepped inside the trailer.

"So," said Alex, "What is it?"

"This." said Tom, and pulled out the gun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it took so long to update! This is kinda going to be a short chapter.**

**Hidden Agenda**

**What were Tom's motives in becoming Alex's best friend? Was he just grateful for the help after being beat up? Or was Alex's unknown life catching up with him before he knew it existed?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider. **

Alex stared at the gun, horror filling him up like a car at the pump. He felt slightly abashed for having let his guard down in this one refuge from his other life. Again he cursed himself inwardly as he remembered how Tom knew everything about MI6. Perhaps he had always known. Maybe that was why Tom had not been very surprised when Alex finally told him the truth. His eyes traveled down the hard metallic nozzle of the weapon, and shivers ran down his spine in the cold clarity that this was the final betrayal. There was nowhere to run, and Alex could see no alternative except certain death if Tom carried out his plan. He knew that Tom would be hard pressed to miss a target in these close quarters, even if he had never shot before. He looked Tom straight in the eyes. Though he was trying to hide it, Alex could see the dread lingering in them. Tom was terrified of what he was about to do.

"Why?" Alex asked. It was something that he would be glad to know, though it would not soften the blow when it came. Tom's lower lip trembled. He studied the floor and did not answer.

"Please, Tom. As a friend, I'm asking you, though I don't know if that means anything to you anymore." Alex pleaded. Tom took a deep, shaky breath before he answered.

"The only reason I'm telling you this is because I think you deserve to know." He glanced down at the pistol he held and hastily added "Don't try anything, though. My hand just might accidentally slip on this trigger." Alex nodded. He would do what Tom said, for a while. But eventually he would have to escape, though he knew that would be almost impossible. Or he would die. It was as simple as that. If he was going to go down, Alex thought wryly, he wasn't going to go down without a fight. His attention was brought back to Tom as he started his story.

"When we first met, you saved me from Jack Hamilton and his gang. I was really grateful for that, until you told me your name. My father asked me to look out for you, as a way in to spy on your uncle, Ian. "When Tom paused for a breath, Alex interrupted him.

"Wait a second. You said your father. I've met your father. He may just be really good, but I'm guessing he doesn't have anything to do with spies. I need you to tell me the truth."

Tom smiled. "You have only met my stepfather. My real father is Winston Yu. I gather that you have met him before. He seems _very_ fond of you." Tom said sarcastically. Alex nodded. It all made sense to him now, except one thing.

"How did he get out of the sub? MI6 said they found a human bag of bones when they recovered it."

Tom frowned. "They didn't tell you it was stolen? My stepmom took command of my dad's men and ordered them to regain possession of the sub. She hired a team of surgeons that worked round the clock to put him back together. He is still recovering slowly, but can talk to my stepmom. She told me to kill you, as a favor to my father." There they went again, letting him down. Alex should have never gone along with their plans, although he never really had a choice.

Alex smiled wryly. "So we were never friends at all? Just because that seems like a pretty weak reason to kill your best friend."

Tom grinned shakily. "She also told me my life would end if yours didn't.

They were quiet for a few minutes until Alex broke the silence.

"So." he said.

"So." Tom agreed.

"You gonna do it?" Alex hesitantly asked. Tom grappled with himself until finally saying

"I don't think so." A balloon of relief exploded within Alex, filling him up.

"Since I'm not gonna kill you", Tom continued, "Your gonna have to come with me. We need somewhere to hide when they find out I didn't do it." Alex now realized that Tom was in almost as deep as he was. They were in the same boat now. They were just about to leave when a knock on the door stopped them. They froze.

"Who is it?" called Tom in a high falsetto.

"Cut the crap, Tom we know it's you. If you're not out of that trailer with Rider's dead body in five minutes, we're coming in to get you."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry, but this is going to have to be a really short chapter. I barely have enough time to bang out these chappies sometimes.**

**Hidden Agenda**

**What were Tom's motives in becoming Alex's best friend? Was he just grateful for the help after being beat up? Or was Alex's unknown life catching up with him before he knew it existed?**

**Disclaimer: Alex Rider, blah blah ... I do not own him. **

Alex and tom both froze at the exact same time. For a minute the only sound was their short, panicked breathing. Then they jump-started into frantic action, searching almost fruitlessly for any way out. Then Alex's gaze fell upon the driver's seat. He sprinted to the wheel and surveyed the dashboard. The RV needed keys to start it, and Alex guessed that it also required an experienced driver. He sat down and took the wheel.

"Tom!" he yelled. "I'm gonna need a screwdriver and something heavy." Tom gave him an odd look, but still complied. He returned to the front seat with a Phillip's head screwdriver and a large red brick. Alex grimaced at the brick, but set to work anyways. He smashed the keyhole with the brick, then threw it aside. Then came the tricky part. Alex had no way of knowing if this would work. Hotwiring his uncle's car, he reflected, was probably an altogether different process than hotwiring an RV. He removed the wired panel and shoved the screwdriver in the ignition. He turned the screwdriver. The RV revved the engine and started slowly rolling down the sloped ground. Tom cheered and opened the window in the back of the RV. His stepmom's henchmen had astonished looks on their faces as they watched the trailer start to drive away as Alex gained control over the vehicle. As they coasted away, Tom heaved the heavy brick out the window, to land on his mother's car, which she had so graciously lent out to her minions.

Alex drove the car steadily into a back road and parked, where Tom said, "You know, we're gonna have to ditch the RV. They know the license plate number." Alex knew Tom was right. He was still slightly giddy from the narrow escape, but they could not afford to let their grip slide. They needed to stay vigilant at all times. But first they needed to know where they were going. Alex turned to Tom for this, as he had no idea.

At that question, Tom puzzled over possible answers for minute, then said, "We need to go to a place where they will never find us. A place where we can be completely anonymous, and no one asks questions. I overheard my stepmom boasting to my father that she had successfully placed some of her agents in MI6, so they're out. I say we go to America."

Alex agreed, but he spotted one problem in Tom's plan. "We have no money. How do you expect to get there? By walking?"

Tom held up a wad of cash. "With this. My stepmother plans for everything. She expected us to buy the most expensive trailer possible, not this tin can. I have something like 7000 pounds. That's about $10,000 in American money. Alex thought about it, then nodded his head.

"Alright, then. We go to America."

**See this little greenish button? No that one, right there. You know you want to press it. Go on. Click it. It will make one writer who we all know and love (I hope) veeeery happy. **

**I'm going to wait for 5 reviews until I write the next chappie. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Ellohay, eoplespay!! isthay ntroiay isay inay igpay atinlay. Ethay anslationtray isay atay ethay ottombay.**

**Isclaimerday: iay on'tday wnoay lexaay ideray. *adsay acefay* **

Alex stared out of the window of the airplane. The fluffy clouds rolled by as if they had not a care in the world… unlike Tom and himself. Alex was altogether too worried when they went through customs at the airport, as he had kept reminding himself. When they had stepped onto the plane, Tom had commented he looked like a wooden board, his shoulders up and his face alert. He knew how it felt to not know who was working for whoever happened to be the bad guy at the time, but this time, MI6 wasn't on his side. If he messed up and got himself killed, no one except Tom would know or even particularly care. Not that MI6 had ever been much help, he reassured himself, smiling slightly.

Alex turned his attention back to the inside of the plane, where he observed Tom stuffing his face with packets of airplane peanuts. He noticed Alex watching and grinned sheepishly, his cheeks packed with the nuts. Alex shook his head. It was amazing that anyone could have conceived Tom as capable of murder. He shuddered at the thought of how close he had come to death by his best friend.

He took a sip of water to cleanse himself of his dark thoughts. It had a metallic aftertaste to it, as if it had been run from a tap. Alex made a face. Was there any good food on this plane? He severely doubted it.

An hour later, Tom and Alex were sitting outside an airport in New York City without a clue of where to go next. Tom hailed a taxi and asked the driver if he knew any good hotels. He shrugged and suggested a place called "The Sunshine Motel". He drove them to the motel and then sped off, as if worried that they would complain about the hotel choice.

Alex thought that the "Sunshine Motel" could aptly be described as a hole in the wall. The sign hung crooked on the scuffed up door, its neon lights dull. It wasn't just the poor surroundings that gave Alex the creeps. It was the feeling that permeated the air, a feeling of hopelessness. Alex got the feeling that this was where people went when they had nowhere else to go. This was the kind of place where people came when they had completely given up. He smiled grimly. They would fit right in here.

They entered the grimy motel to see a male bartender wiping the lonely bar with a dirty dishrag. Alex wasn't sure if the towel was cleaning the table, or making it filthier than it already was. He looked up when he heard the bells on the door tinkle as they came in.

"Goo' mornin'," he said, as if he had never told a bigger lie. He gave them a halfhearted smile, revealing teeth that resembled crumbling tombstones on rotten gums. They stared at eachother for a minute until he finally said "Well, I suppose I'll have to check you in. What name is your reservation under?"

Alex and Tom looked at eachother for a minute.

"Ummmm, well, um, you see, we don't have a reservation, but if you have a room open, we can pay you up front with cash." Tom held out about fifty American dollars to the man.

"I'll check if we have a room open." he opened a door a few feet behind him and yelled into it.

"Hey you! Martha, we have a room open?"

A stressed female voiced called back.

"Yeah, Room numbah too-welve." (A.N. two-welve = 12-she has a strong accent. ;])

The man turned back towards Alex and Tom and said, "My associate informs me that room number twelve is open. Follow me." He walked to the door he had just yelled into a moment ago, held it open, and gestured impatiently for them to go through. He led them down a few halls, took a right and opened a door to a small dingy room. There were two scruffy mattresses with springs hanging out of them and a thin sheet on each that looked like it might have once been a sack that held potatoes. Alex thought he saw a large spider scuttle over the side of the bed, followed by a cockroach, and shivered. There was no way he was going to sleep in the bed tonight. A small bedside table with an electric lamp on it was between the two beds. On the lampshade there was a stain that Alex dearly hoped was barbecue sauce. The man with the cracked teeth gave them one more craggy smile, then left. Alex and Tom dumped the stuff that was now their only possessions on the bed. (A.N. They took it from the trailer.) Just as Tom was about to say something, the lamp flickered, then went out, plunging the room into darkness.

"Home sweet home," murmured Alex.

**Waiting for eight, yes that's right **_**eight**_** reviews until I update.**

**(From top intro) Translation: Hello, peoples!! This intro is in pig latin. The translation is at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider. *sad face***


	5. Chapter 5

**OK, I haven't gotten eight more reviews yet, but I'm bored right now, and thought what the hey? Might as well write another chappie. So you have my never ending boredom to thank for chapter 5.**

**Summary: Alex might not know just as much about Tom as he thinks he does.**

**All right, who's going to do the disclaimer?**

***alex and tom raise hands***

**PICK ME!! OOOOOOH pick ME!!!!**

**Calm down you peoples, you're supposed to be asleep in that ratty motel, remember?**

***hang heads down***

**Since these two are in serious trouble, I'll have to do it.**

**Disclaimer: Alex Rider? You know him? Yeah, not mine. **

Alex Rider was not normally a morning person. It did not help that this time he was waking up face down on the dirty floor of the sleazy motel that he and Tom had the misfortune to be staying at. The bed with the tattered sheets was a motel in itself for suspiciously poisonous-looking insects, and consequentially, Alex was in his current unpleasant situation on the dusty floor. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. Blinking drowsily, he looked around for Tom. After his eyes adjusted to the morning light, he saw him, halfway on a chair with his mouth open. Alex walked over and was about to shake him awake, but hesitated. For all they knew, Tom's stepmother was hunting for them right now. He worried that when the streets of London where empty of Toms and Alex Riders, that she would guess where they had gone. He was on the verge of leaving Tom and going to get breakfast when Tom fell off the chair and hit the ground with a thump. The impact awakened him, and with much complaints about sore backs and lousy motels, they were off to find a place to eat.

The bar didn't cater to under eighteens, so Alex and Tom had to find breakfast elsewhere. They approached a cheap looking restaurant near their motel called "Cheese and Coffee". (A.N I didn't even make this up. There really is a store called Cheese and Coffee =P) It stood next to another shop, named Sheepskin Seatcovers. (A.N I really did make this one up.) They hesitantly walked into the Cheese and Coffee store. In it were no customers and a chalkboard menu. It announced the daily special, Coffeecake and Decaf. (For the extraordinary price of only $1.99!) The three other items on the menu were Cheese and crackers, Cheesecake, and Ole' Billy's Steamin' Hot Coffee. Nothing on the menu looked good to Alex or Tom, but the guy manning the counter looked so lonely, Alex took pity on him and bought cheese and crackers.

They sat down outside on a dingy table with a black and white umbrella. A few minutes later, a waitress brought out a large platter of cheddar, mozzarella, Wheat Thins and a butter knife to slice the cheese with. Alex and Tom ate in silence. Alex wasn't really paying attention to his food. He was gazing out into the crowded streets, wondering. Could that man with the Yankees cap be working for Tom's mother? That lady reading a two day old newspaper seemed very suspicious. And what was that teenager doing at that corner? Alex shook his head once to clear his head of these thoughts. If he acted so uptight about this all the time, he was going to go crazy, he reminded himself.

Coming out of his reverie, he asked, just to clarify "Tom, what is your stepmother's name?"

Tom looked like he had been doing some serious thinking, so it took him a while to answer.

"Catherine Snyder." He said, "Soon to be Catherine Yu by my reckoning. She's got my father in the palm of her hand." After answering Alex, Tom looked down and studied the table. Alex regarded Tom in a new light. He hadn't yet realized what a blow Tom had dealt his family, but it was plain to see now.

"Do you hate her?"

Tom looked up. He answered with relish. "She destroyed my family. I hate her with all my soul."

As Alex was watching Tom's face, he knew that he spoke the truth. After these revelations, neither Tom nor Alex was in the mood for talking anymore. They paid the man at the counter and tipped the waitress a dollar, then left. For the rest of the day, they didn't do much, just moped around the hotel. The day had been pretty much normal, and Alex had serious doubts about Catherine finding them this soon, but one question remained in his mind. How long were they going to last?

**Dun Dun DUNNNNNNNNN!!!!!! =P**

**Now I need your help. I honestly have no idea what to do next. **

**Review are DEFINITELY accepted with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews with ideas with reviews. PLEASE! =D**

**So you get the picture, right?**


End file.
